Captive Hearts Revised
by Evie Landers
Summary: Peter invites two Italians to share in his eternal joy, and instead they witness the greatest and most horrific tragedy Neverland has ever seen. Desperate to hold on to what he has, Peter keeps the girl who survives against her will. Or does he?
1. Chapter One: At the Mercy of Memories

Disclaimer: Peter, Neverland, Hook, and Tinkerbell do not belong to me...yet. All credit for now goes to J.M Barrie, who made this wonderful cocky little boy named Peter Pan who we can all worship and adore. Rhysenn and Rhiannon, however, _are_ mine. So no stealing. Okay?

Author's Note: At least 10 reviews per NOVEL LENGTH(!!!) Chapter or I don't update. An y'all want to see what happens right?

Chapter One: At the Mercy of Memories

As Peter Pan gazed at the stars as he passed them, thoughts of his love Wendy flew through his head as fast as he flew through the air. The normal feeling of euphoria had long since vanished, and Wendy went with it. The wind whipped his dirty blond hair back out of his face for once, and the sounds of the ocean below him almost had a calming effect. Almost.

His thoughts were uneasy, and an uncomfortable weight settled deep in his stomach. For although he was flying, he felt weighed down more now than ever before.

A cold sweat broke upon his brow, and his insides felt as if they might slither out his mouth and fall into the waves below. Why he was nervous, however, he didn't know. Maybe it was the prospect of leaving Neverland, his home for as long as he could remember. Maybe it was his familiar racing thoughts screaming at him that Wendy had left. She had not chosen him. She had chosen her world, not his. Once again, he had been left behind. He was always left behind... She had given him her kiss, then abandoned him to the memories of it, and abandoned him to the memories of her, of their adventures.

Tall mountains loomed in the distance, the early night moon rising up behind them, framing them hideously with an eerie aura. To most it would look beautiful, serene even. But to Peter, nothing looked beautiful anymore. Nothing was beautiful save Wendy. Wendy with her chestnut hair and sea blue eyes. Wendy with her sweet soft kisses...

She's gone now, Peter thought, as the image of Wendy staring up at him from her bedroom window played in his mind again, the night she had not chosen him. And she's never coming back.

_Never is an awfully long time..._she had once told him. Now more than ever her words were ringing true, and it was killing Peter like a poisonous thorn in his heart, slowly seeping throughout his body as the memories of Wendy slipped farther and farther away.

Peter knew just how long 'never' was. It felt even longer, however, as the days went by. The long days alone, with no Lost Boys, no Tinkerbell, no Wendy.

The reoccurring thought that everyone had left him, including Tink, his beloved fairy, began to creep its way into his mind like smoke through a keyhole. Scarily enough as well was the fact that he was even beginning to miss Captain Hook. At least he could torment him.

Now...he had no one. Even Tink had decided to return to Kensington Gardens for awhile. He should've been happy, for he had no one to try and force him to grow up, but he wasn't.

As Peter began his ever-quickening descent onto the moonlit Italian countryside, a new lingering wave of sadness washed over him, crashing like the breaking waves on the shore.

"It's not like the world is caving in! Per l'amore di Dio!" Thirteen year old Rhysenn Montesano yelled across the hall to her twin sister, Rhiannon.

"At least I care what other people think of me!" she yelled back, to which Rhysenn replied by slamming her bedroom door.

"At least I don't look like a painted up doll!"

"At least I don't look dead."

Rhysenn groaned and threw herself down on her bed, burying her head in her pillow and screaming as loud as she could.

Both of the girls heard their mother quickly coming up the creaking wood steps.

"Rhysenn, open the door. Rhiannon, apologize to your sister."

Rhysenn groaned again and put her pillow over her head. She and her sister both yelled a "NO!" back at their mother, who promptly gave up, sure that there would be no violence between the two. No matter how bad they seemed to fight, deep down, Maria Montesano knew that her daughters loved each other.

Rhysenn and Rhiannon had always been different. Exact opposites would be more correct. Rhiannon was known as Rhi, while her twin chose to use her full name. Rhi was the girly one, while Rhysenn could be described as darker. Rhi usually had her ebony black hair up in an elegant bun, compared to Rhysenn's long flowing locks.

They were as different as night and day.

Rhi sat in her room, full of pink and flowers and lace, sitting in front of her vanity and brushing out her hair. Olive green eyes just like her sister's stared back at her, full of masked pain and hurt. She was still hurting, even after all these years.

It wasn't as if she made it obvious, however. Her mock concern about her appearance covered up for the hole in her heart, the hole that was supposed to be filled by a father.

She remembered the day as if it had just passed her by. Rain had pounded on the tavern's roof hard, and lightning had struck very near to the house, frightening their herd of horses.

Rhi and Rhysenn were curled up in their father Seamus' strong arms, both firm and comforting at the same time. They were whimpering at exactly the same as well. When they were little, they relished in the fact that they were twins, dressing alike and finishing each other's sentences. But now, 10 years after their father's death, they both strove to become as different from the other as humanly possible.

As the lightning had gotten ever closer, Seamus had argued with his wife, telling her that the horses needed to be put in the barn right away.

"Seamus," she had replied, "don't be silly. The horses will be fine. They've survived worse than this."

Despite his wife's disapproval, however, Seamus had ventured out into the storm. The last image of their father alive the twins had was him winking at them both separately. He had always thought them two individuals, which had contrasted their mother thinking of them as a unit, built to be alike in every way.

"When I get back," he had told them, "I'll tell you a story. Rapunzel if you're good." That was the last time Rhi and Rhysenn had ever saw their father alive. Even now, the mention of Rapunzel brought tears to Rhi's eyes. She was sure Rhysenn felt the same, but the older twin didn't show it.

And here is where the memory fades, leaving large white gaps filled by tears and fear, bitter hearts and secrets. Empty spaces and white noise...

Rhysenn and Rhiannon were standing outside. The sun was just peeking over the mountains far off into the distance. They were staring down and their father's lifeless body, broken and battered from hundreds of horses' hooves.

He was staring up, his blue eyes blank and knowing nothing, as if he never had lived at all. His were the same eyes that one sees in a baby stillborn. Innocent and painless, not learning anything of the harsh realities of life. His eyes were of a twenty eight year old who had been snatched when those around him needed him most...

A knock at the door jolted Rhiannon from her memory. She dropped her hairbrush on the floor in surprise.

"Yes?" she called, picking it back up. "Come in."

Maria stepped into her daughter's room, her curly blond hair falling messily out of its bun and into her eyes. She hastily pushed it back out of her face, and to her dismay, it fell right back out again.

"Rhi," she sighed as she said this, as if saying it produced a load on her shoulders that she could not bear. "it's time to go to bed. You've a big day tomorrow."

With a roll of her eyes, Rhi remembered exactly what made it a big day. She was going to meet a painter and his son, family friends. This meant dressing up, something Rhi secretly hated but did anyway just to be contrary, corsets that made her faint, bothersome manners and furtive looks from the painter's son.

She groaned and sent a pleading look towards her mother, who looked about as happy with the situation as Rhiannon did.

"Mama, do I have to?" she begged, and Maria nodded, feeling as if she had just condemned Rhi to a death sentence. In a way, it was.

Maria Montesano knew how hard it was for her daughter to have to endure all that she was making her. She had once done the exact same thing, the only difference being she actually like her prospective husband.

The painter, Mr. Lucci, had expressed extreme dislike when he had saw Rhysenn, with her lacy black dresses and equally black makeup. The dislike was mirrored, however, by intrigue when he met Rhiannon, in a frilly white dress with powder on her face. Rhysenn had told her that she looked like _piccoli pastorella, _the English equivalent being something like "Little Bo Peep".

"Fine," Rhi replied, not at all pleased, "good night mama."

Maria kissed her daughter on both cheeks and left her to prepare for bed. It was only moments later that she was asleep in her own.

Almost asleep, Rhysenn was interrupted by a flaming ball of light hurling towards her head. At the last moment, however, it turned sharply and moved towards the door.

Sitting bolt upright, and gasping for breath, she decided to follow the light as it made its way into her sister's room. It was making a rather annoying tinkling sound, as if comprised of tiny bells. At first it's lovely, but after about two minutes, it starts to get on one's nerves.

The little ball of light hovered for a moment over Rhiannon's bed, then promptly flew out the window. Rhi was still asleep, and Rhysenn tiptoed around her sister and got close enough to the window to see the ball of light floating a few yards away, making that strange tinkling sound again. She thought she saw another shape there, but as soon as the thought entered her head, the shape disappeared, and she blamed it on a trick of the shadows.

"Two?" she heard a voice say, and she quickly suppressed a gasp. "Are you sure?"

It was a young boy's voice, Rhysenn was sure of that. When he asked the question, the tinkling started up again. Apparently, he was talking to the ball of light, and having an incredibly entertaining conversation it seemed as well, because the boy let out a impish laugh.

Through the starless sky, she thought she saw the boy move closer to the window, and Rhysenn quickly ran over and climbed into her sister's armoire, which was large enough to hold her.

Rhiannon stirred from across the room, but didn't wake up.

Suddenly, a cold breeze came in through the open window, despite the fact that it was June, and the boy's feet touched the hardwood floor. At the sudden weight placed upon it, the floor creaked a little. Hearing the sound, he hovered a few inches from it. Rhysenn's eyes grew large, partly because she saw that they boy was hovering off the floor, and partly because the little ball of light had come to rest for a moment on a shelf, and she saw exactly what it was.

It, she rather, was dressed in what looked to be a few leaves sewn together that barely passed for a dress, and she had blond hair that was pulled up on top of her head and held there. By what Rhysenn, didn't know.

Pulling memories from stories she'd heard as a child, Rhysenn knew clearly that what was sitting on her sister's shelf, was a fairy. And a rather beautiful one, at that.

"I thought you said there was two," the boy whispered to the fairy, rather irritated. The fairy, in reply, perched herself on the boy's shoulder, and seemingly told him something important, because he grinned slyly.

From the cramped space Rhysenn was sitting in, she could see the boy grin and start walking slowly towards the exact place she was hiding.

She covered her mouth with her hands to keep from gasping.

He's going to find me! Rhysenn thought, shaking, Who knows what he'll do to me?

"One..." the boy whispered to the now very excited fairy. Rhysenn closed her eyes, knowing full well she was caught. "Two..." the boy extended his hand, "Three!"

He pulled on the doors as hard as he could. They flew open, sending the boy sprawling. Rhysenn squeaked and Rhi turned over in her bed, muttering something about paint and lack of air.

The boy landed with a groan, and hastily stood up and placed his hands on his hips, surveying the sight of the open armoire.

Inside it, he saw a girl that looked exactly like the one in the bed, with her knees drawn up about her and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Bounanotte ..." the boy whispered in perfect Italian, and Rhysenn opened one eye. Seeing the boy advance upon her again, however, she closed them quickly.

Rhiannon had apparently woken up some time before, and was now sitting up in her bed.

"Bounanotte," she replied. The boy, startled, turned around quickly and placed his hand on the hilt of his dagger, which he wore on a cord around his waist. It would seem he'd forgotten that there was more than one girl in the room.

Regaining his dignified posture and removing his hand, he bowed low. Rhiannon, being more trained in manners and etiquette, got out of bed and curtsied politely.

The boy stole a glance at Rhysenn, his blue eyes glinting mischievously, but she just stared at the two of them, looking almost disgusted.

"What's your name?" he asked Rhysenn. She didn't speak, still distrusting him. Why shouldn't I distrust him? she thought, he's half-naked, and he flew through my window in the middle of the night.

"That's Rhysenn, my twin sister." Rhiannon said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at the boy. He grinned in reply. Rhysenn saw her sister actually shiver with giddiness.

The boy busied himself with exploring the room. He approached the armoire, and upon seeing the amount of clothes stored within, stepped back in astonishment.

"Those are mine. Do you like the frilly things, um..." she giggled.

"Peter," the boy said, and grinned cockily. "Pan."

Just a _bit_ of shameless flirting, Rhysenn thought as she rolled her eyes. Realizing she was still sitting in the armoire, and thought herself stupid, she stood up and sat on the edge of Rhiannon's bed.

"I'm Rhiannon," Her voice had the quality of honey. Rhysenn became nauseous.

"Just lay it on a _bit thicker_..." she muttered. The boy turned to face her. He held out his hand.

"Hello," he said, and bowed again, never taking his eyes off of her. For a moment, Rhysenn thought herself to be overcome with giddiness as well. But as soon as the fluffy and cute feeling started, she killed it mercilessly with the spiked mace of logic.

"What do you want?" she asked, thinking this to be a highly reasonable question, owing to the fact it was almost midnight and they were all in their bedclothes.

"Why," Peter replied, looking at he as if this was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. Rhysenn felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "to take you on an adventure, of course."

Rhiannon giggled and batted her eyes at Peter again, while Rhysenn glared at him incredulously.

"That's not much of a reason, if you ask me." She said quietly. Peter glared just as cockily back at her. He smirked as he made his reply.

"I _didn't_ ask you."

Ouch, Rhysenn thought as she realized that he was right. He _hadn't_. She stiffened, attempting to regain back some of her pride.

"Well," she said, turning up her nose at him, "I don't want to." To prove her point, she got up off the bed and started towards the door, with every intention of continuing her boring and, in her opinion, pointless, life.

Peter stepped in front of her, effectively blocking the doorway. He was so close that Rhysenn could see the faint dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose, and the slight curve of his lower lip.

"I could make it worth your while..." he said slyly, his warm breath tickling her cheek. For a moment, he caught Rhysenn off guard, and she felt herself give in to his boyish good looks and sweet remarks.

"Peter?" Rhiannon, always the spoiler of erotic tension-filled moments, called out. Peter gave a knowing look at Rhysenn, half-smiled at her, then turned to answer Rhi.

"Yes, Princess?" he replied, his chin raised proudly, as if he thought himself a genius for coming up with such a name.

Actually, Rhysenn had come up with it long earlier, but she had added the word "Brat".

"Which dress should I wear when I go with you?" Rhiannon swelled with pride at being called 'princess'.

Rhysenn groaned. Now, of all times, her sister was thinking of what to wear. Shuddering with disgust, she turned to look at the inevitably hideous dresses her sister would be holding.

Hideous, my friend, is a drastic understatement.

It looked as if Rhi was holding a mass of pink ribbons, lace, and satin. That's all it consisted of: pink.

For the second time that night, Rhysenn had to suppress the urge to vomit.

"Well, actually," Peter started, but Rhi cut him off.

"Ooh," she squealed, "I knew you'd agree with me! This one is _so _much prettier!"

She had apparently chosen the frillier of the two, if that was even possible. Giggling madly, she left to change, leaving Peter and Rhysenn alone, if just for a few minutes.

"What are you going to wear?" Peter asked quietly, praying with everything he had that she wouldn't choose what she was wearing. It wasn't that it was ugly, it just reminded him far too much of Wendy. It was the same plain white nightgown.

"I dunno," Rhysenn replied, pulling up her guard again, just to be safe. "You choose."

Peter grinned half-heartedly, obviously not too intrigued at the prospect that he might be seeing yet another armoire full of frilly pink dresses. "Don't worry," Rhysenn continued, as if reading his mind, "they're nothing like my sisters."

At this his face brightened, and he scrunched up his nose playfully. The two headed into Rhysenn's room, much different than her sister's. It was large, clean, dark, and more Victorian in style.

Rhysenn pulled open her own armoire, revealing a large assortment of clothes. Thankfully, there were no frilly pink clothes of any sort. What the armoire did contain, however, were boyish looking work pants, ladylike black dresses, corsets, and many black skirts.

"Here," Peter said, taking almost no time to even assess the clothes in front of him. "Wear this."

He was holding a simple cotton work shirt and brown pants. "These should be comfortable."

Rhysenn grinned, letting down her guard for a moment. Motioning for Peter to turn around, she started to pull her nightgown over her head. As it was halfway off, however, Rhiannon burst into the room with false grandeur.

"La piccoli pastorella..." Rhysenn commented with a smirk, to which Rhiannon replied by throwing herself at a very horrified Peter.

The sight of seeing Rhysenn with her nightgown half off, coupled with the sight of a drugged up Little Bo Peep, had effectively rendered him speechless for the second time in his life. The first was when Wendy had given him her kiss, and that was far more enjoyable than seeing Rhiannon dressed up. Rhysenn half naked, not so bad...

"Shall we go?" Rhiannon asked bubbly and smiling, holding her hand out to Peter. He didn't take it.

"Actually," Rhysenn cut in, "I have to change first. Then we'll go."

Rhiannon's smile faded.

"Oh." She replied curtly, and flounced over to her sister's bed and sat down, pouting.

Within a few minutes, Rhysenn emerged from her twin's room dressed and ready to go.

"So," she said, smiling softly at Peter, "where are we going?"

Peter grinned proudly and placed his hands on his hips once again. Tinkerbell hovered next to his ear, every once and awhile tugging on a strand of his hair impatiently.

"Well," Peter said, "Neverland."

Rhiannon and Rhysenn both furrowed their eyebrows, equally confused and beautiful at the same. Yes, they were beautiful, but in different ways. Rhysenn was more like Wendy, beautiful in the simple sense. Rhiannon was more like Tinkerbell, girly and frilly and elegant. Also, equally as vain, it seemed.

Tink once again pulled on a lock of Peter's hair, and he swatted her away impatiently. She flew backwards by the sheer force of it, and landed with a squeak in one of Rhiannon's white powder puffs.

She proceeded to scream angry obscenities in the fairy language, which was the tinkling of bells that Rhysenn had so come to hate.

"How pretty!" Rhiannon squealed, clasping her hands over her heart and giggling.

Peter gave her a skeptical look.

"You are," he said, his eyebrows furrowed, "talking about Tink, right?"

Rhiannon nodded, and Peter snorted in an attempt to hold in laughter, for fear of offending the girl.

Peter gave Rhysenn a piteous look, very sorry that she had to live with Rhiannon and put up with her, and approached the angry fairy slowly. "Tink," he whispered gently, trying to calm her down, "we're gonna need you in order to get back home. You know that, right?"

Tink screamed something most likely very offensive, because Peter's eyes grew wide in horror. He grabbed the struggling fairy and shook her as hard as he could, coating the twins with a fine shimmering dust.

Several things happened at once. Rhiannon and Rhysenn began to float up into the air, Tink grew very dazed and fell back down into the snow white powder, effectively covering herself in it, and, worst of all, a furious Maria burst into the room.


	2. Chapter Two: Far Away Dreams revised

**Disclaimer:** Peter, Neverland, Hook, and Tinkerbell do not belong to me…yet. All credit for now goes to J.M Barrie, who made this wonderful ##### little boy named Peter Pan who we can all worship and adore. Rhysenn, Rhiannon, and Fyr however, _are_ mine. So no stealing. Okay?

**Chapter Two: Far Away Dreams**

As soon as Maria burst into the room, she was greeted by the sight of her two daughters sleeping soundly in their beds, both breathing deeply.

She approached each of the beds, making sure the girls were sleeping. They were. She let out a content smile at her two daughters. She was overwhelmed with motherly love. Rhysenn, however, just wished she would leave.

Maria sighed with relief, checked once more, then proceeded to return to bed.

A few moments later, a very shaken Peter emerged from the armoire, his hair even messier than usual.

The twins opened their eyes and got up out of bed. Rhiannon smoothed her dress as she did so.

"That was too close for comfort," Peter said quietly as he watched Tink struggle with opening the powder canister. Apparently, she had pulled it down to avoid being discovered. Now, she could barely lift it to free herself.

Peter absentmindedly lifted the jar off of his fairy and set it down beside her, and she began to brush herself off.

"It was ever so difficult to stay in bed!" Rhiannon exclaimed, and Rhysenn cast an apologetic look at Peter. He silently acknowledged it with a small smile. "I mean, with all those exciting far away dreams that I was having! Oh Peter!"

Peter snapped to attention. "Do tell me what Neverland is like!"

At this, Rhysenn as well became interested. She couldn't help it, because if a boy as charming as Peter came from there, it must be wonderful.

Peter stood up and slowly walked towards the girls.

"Come with me," he said, "and I'll show you. Neverland is where all of your fantasies come true. If you wish it, you can fly with the great eagles, swim with the mermaids, or even fight pirates!"

Rhiannon frowned.

"But…" she said, pouting, "I'll get dirty."

Peter smiled as he let Tink perch on his shoulder.

"Not if you don't want to," he said, "there are fairy courts, where you can dance, have grand dinners, all sorts of ladylike things!"

At the mention of this, Rhiannon instantly brightened up, while Rhysenn scowled. "Rhysenn…" Peter said quietly, "what would you like to do?"

Rhysenn chewed on her lower lip. Truth was, she didn't know. She'd never thought of having any adventures.

"Peter," she asked, "are there horses?" Peter's eyes lit up.

"Better! There are Pegasus! Fabulous horses with wings! You can gallop across the prairie or fly through the clouds, all depending on your hearts desire!"

Rhysenn smiled despite herself. 

"It…does sound rather exciting…" she said, fighting the corners of her mouth that were struggling to travel upwards even more.

"Do you want to know why you couldn't stay in bed?" Peter asked Rhysenn and Rhiannon as he stood on the ledge of the window.

They both nodded, Rhi a little more giddily so. "Happy thoughts!" Peter yelled as he took a giant leap off of the balcony.

Rhiannon screamed, then covered her mouth with her hands. "Don't worry," Peter said, catching her worry, "Grown-ups get tired when around fairies. They blame it on old age." He laughed a little.

The twins watched as Peter did flips in the air. It only took him a few moments, however, to become bored. That what was normal for him, you see. That's what's normal for little boys. A little boy, a little attention span.

"Peter," Rhi asked sweetly, "how old are you?"

All at once Peter seemed to have trouble keeping himself in the air. It felt like the words had manifested themselves into a cannon ball and had hit him square in the stomach. The weight he felt as he was flying there returned.

So he landed back on the balcony, his mouth turned slightly downward. Wendy asked me that same question… he thought as he considered what to say.

"I'm a boy, silly!" he replied with false happiness. "That's all you need to know. And I'll stay a boy forever, and have many adventures."

"But," Rhi continued, "don't you want to grow up and have wonderful dinner parties?"

Peter scoffed and folded his hands over his chest, his jaw set.

"Dinner parties? Me?" He seemed appalled at the thought. "Never."

Rhiannon appeared satisfied with the answer, although secretly she was very disappointed. She hid it well, however, by forcing herself to think happy thoughts. Her _true _happy thoughts. I like nothing of the world of dinner parties and dresses and romance, she thought, I belong on the stage…

She hummed a little ditty that she composed herself, about a girl who was trapped and unable to achieve her dreams, and soon she lifted into the air.

Rhysenn as well thought of her own happy thoughts: the wind whipping through her hair as she raced along on her mare, Aradia, the sound of hooves pounding on the ground, the freedom that came with it…

She rose up next to her sister. Peter, seemingly not having to try hard as well, joined them.

The sun traveled to greet the three companions as they crossed the border that divided Neverland and the mortal world. White capped waves crashed upon crystal-like coasts below, while rocks stuck up like jagged teeth from the shallower waters.

Squinting hard, Rhysenn thought she could see the beryl colored tails of mermaids as they disappeared under the waves.

Peter and her flew gracefully, Rhiannon less so. Her already heavy skirts, now damp from the ocean spray, weighed her down immensely, and she was having trouble keeping up.

"Come on Rhi!" Peter called right before he performed a tremendous and spectacular nosedive.

He was mere inches from the surface of the ocean, and spray was hitting him full force.

When he pulled up again and turned to face Rhysenn, his hair was soaked, matted down and hanging limply in his eyes. Casually he brushed the stray locks away.

As they descended down onto the cool sand, Peter crowed gloriously.

"Oh the cleverness of me!" he called out as he touched down, "Oh the wonderful clever idea I had to bring you here!"

Tink, who was preening herself on a rock, heard his comment and stomped her foot angrily. For, you see, truly it had been _her_ idea to bring the girls to Neverland. She could not stand to see Peter so lonely and sad, so she went on a little scouting mission for him. It was her mission to find a beautiful young girl who could be Peter's new mother.

She had hated London, with its cold damp air. So instead she had traveled to Italy, much warmer.

She was so proud of herself when she had found not one girl, but two! Peter would have not one mother, like he'd hoped, but two!

"Oh Peter," Rhiannon cooed, "you are ever so smart!" She smiled, shamelessly flirting with him for the countless time that day.

Wait, Rhysenn thought as she stared up into the sky, it was night when we left.

"Peter," she called, "why is it day here?"

Peter cast a furtive look up into the sky, shielding his eyes from the bright sun as he did so. He chewed pensively on his lip, the same way Rhysenn did when she was thinking.

"There's a different sort of time system here," he told her. "and it revolves around me!" He grinnedarrogantly and crowed once more.

"Yeah," Rhysenn muttered under her breath, "seems like everything does."

Rhiannon, against her better judgement, felt a wave of jealousy well up inside of her at the sight of Peter and her sister flying together.

"It's not like _she's _the prettier one," she said quietly while landing.

"Peter!" she called, "I'm so tired! I don't know if I can go on any longer!" Peter turned his attention away from Rhysenn and focused instead on her sister.

"Oh, love." He replied, approaching her. She grinned, sure that she was adorable. "Do you want me to carry you or something?"

Rhiannon shook her head.

"Oh no! That would be so _inconvenient._" She saw her sister roll her eyes, and she squashed a triumphant laugh. "But…" she said, gazing innocently at him, "could you hold my hand? Please?"

Peter smiled softly as he took her white-gloved hand into his. Rhiannon noticed how different they were as he did so. Hers were clean and ladylike, while Peter's were so dirty and callused. And in a strange way, she wished hers were the same…

Rhiannon noticed with glee that her sister was looking quite unhappy.

Deciding that he'd rather walk than fly, which was a rarity in itself, Peter assumed the girls would do the same. Rhysenn was fine, but Rhiannon, that was another story.

Every few steps or so, she'd whimper, looking down in horror at her boots. The once pristine white was now looking more like a rugged brown.

"Oh shut it, you big baby," Rhysenn snapped, harshly shoving a branch out of her way. Peter suppressed a snicker. He happened to agree, but he forced himself to be gentlemanly.

She shrieked and clutched her one free hand to her chest, stopping dead in her tracks.

Lying directly in front of them, curled up on the ground, was a large, brown and spotted snake, apparently sleeping.

Peter, spotting a chance to show off once more, reached down and grabbed the snake by its tail. Angrily, it awoke and started hissing.

Laughing gaily, he shot up into the air, rising quickly above the treetops and traveling till he was barely in view.

Far below, Rhysenn and Rhiannon gasped in unison. "Per l'amore di Dio!" Rhysenn whispered.

They heard a distinct whistle, followed by what seemed to be a birdcall. A looming shadow suddenly covered the sun and, along with it, Peter.

The twins covered their ears with their hands as a deafening eagle screech resounded throughout the island. Fleetingly Rhysenn wondered if anyone else heard it too. It must've echoed for miles.

The shadow, or, the eagle rather, moved, bringing Peter back into view. He threw something, most likely the snake, as hard and as high as he could manage; the eagle swooped down, and caught it in its jaws.

Laughing, Peter returned to the ground and made a gigantic bow.

"Peter!" Rhiannon rushed over and began to fawn over him, "you are oh so brave!"

Peter grinned, full of himself, as was his nature.

"Aww," he said, shrugging, "it was nothing." Rhysenn had a sudden urge to run to him and fawn as well, but she squashed the desire, telling herself that he was only an arrogant little boy, a very attractive, arrogant little boy…

_Peter placed his hand in Wendy's, slowly moving to the fairy music floating up from the tree. He let Wendy glide backwards, and he soon followed. Framed by the moonlight, she had looked so beautiful…she had always looked beautiful…_

"Peter? Peter!" He heard a voice calling him. Wendy… he thought, slowly opening his eyes.

"Wendy? Is that you?" he asked, his vision still blurry.

"Oh Peter, you're okay!" His vision suddenly cleared, and he was staring up at the face of Rhiannon, tears in her eyes.

"You hit your head." Rhysenn stated matter-of-factly, her arms across her chest.

Peter felt a dull throbbing pain at the back of his head. Suddenly he realized he was lying down and that patches of sunlight broke through the trees and colored him mottled.

"Muh…" he said, rubbing the back of his head. Rhysenn stooped down and took his face in her hands gently. Her hands are so warm. Wendy… Peter thought.

She gave him a scolding look, and touched his forehead. He drew in a sharp breath, his forehead suddenly stinging.

"Hook!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. Rhiannon and Rhysenn stared at him, thoroughly puzzled.

"What?", they asked in unison. Peter's looked around frantically for the demon that still haunted his nightmares.

"Hook…" he repeated, this time much quieter, sitting back down and closing his eyes. He realized he was sitting against a root of a very large tree…

Rhiannon started to question him again about Hook, but she was quieted by her sister's hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Peter…" Rhysenn whispered, leaning down in front of him again, looking into his eyes.

He gazed back at her, and tears in his own eyes mirrored hers, full of sorrow and longing.

"Yes?" he replied, equally as quiet.

They never broke eye contact as Rhysenn told him he'd better get that nasty cut on his forehead cleaned up.

"Where is your mother?" she asked, looking this way and that, "She should be able to fix that real quick."

Peter sighed.

"I don't have one," He said, and Rhiannon gasped, eyes wide in horror. "I was hoping one of you could be my mother."

Rhiannon stared at him incredulously, while Rhysenn stared with pity. Even though she didn't particularly have a great relationship with her own mother, at least she had one, and she was grateful.

A little boy needs one most of all… she thought as she extended her hand to help Peter to his feet.

He glared at her, and didn't take her hand. He was quite certain he could get up on his own. Well, he did, sort of. It took him a few tries, and he stumbled the first time, but he eventually managed it. He thought himself the most graceful child in all of Neverland.

"I'd watch your step if I were you," growled a voice from the trees above. Rhiannon gasped and clung to Peter's arm, Peter rolling his eyes as she did so. Rhysenn just crossed her arms and glared upwards skeptically.

"Yeah?" she replied, "And what are you gonna do about it? You won't even leave the safety of your _tree_." Her voice was laden with scorn.

A rustle was heard up ahead, then a wild whooping war cry. Rhiannon looked up, eyes wide.

Rhysenn, however, had grabbed Peter's dagger from his belt, and was now brandishing it menacingly.

Rhysenn heard a noise behind her, and swung around quickly, the dagger held firmly in her right hand. She caught a faint hiss, then saw what she had hit.

It was a boy, a bit taller than Peter, with messy red hair that hung in his bright green eyes. His body was built different than Peter's, who was small. This boy couldn't have been older, but he looked it. He already had peach fuzz trailing down to his chin. He wore shorts made out of dark green material, that became more and more tattered the closer they got to his knees. He, like Peter, wasn't wearing any shoes.

His cheek had an inch long cut on it, and blood dribbled down onto his lip. He licked it, and approached Rhysenn, who was still holding the knife out.

Slowly, the boy reached out a calloused hand, took the knife by the blade and held it there for a moment. He then flipped it over, and stuck it in his own sheath. He grinned at Peter slyly.

All this time Rhi had been clinging to Peter for dear life, whimpering like a baby. Now, in the presence of another boy, she regained her second wind. But only after making sure he wasn't going to kill her.

"Hello," She said, holding out a gloved hand and smiling sweetly. The boy grabbed it, turned it palm up and…spit on it. His eyes narrowed in disgust as he eyed Rhiannon's frilly dress.

"I sure hope you ain't Irish," He said, eyeing her once more up and down. His vision lingered on Rhi's chest, a few moments longer than was necessary. She pulled her petticoat around her tighter, laced it up, and took off her glove.

"I'm not," She replied, sticking her nose up in the air, deciding to ignore the spitting the boy had done.

"Good," the boy replied, "because if you were I'd have to disown my country, you'd be such a disgrace to it." He mused for a moment, and then continued. "But then again, you're a disgrace to _any _country."

Rhi's eyes filled with tears, and both Peter and Rhysenn realized the boy had gone too far with this comment. Rhiannon hung her head in shame, crying freely now.

"Fyr," Peter said sternly, "that's enough."

The boy called Fyr smirked at Peter, and advanced towards him. Peter instinctively reached for where his dagger should've been, and the look of fear that dawned on his face when he realized he didn't have it only made Fyr smirk wider.

"A bit disadvantaged, aren't we?" He asked, pulling out Peter's dagger from his own belt.

Peter stood, hands fisted. "You know," Fyr continued, "I would give it back to you…" He approaced Rhysenn.

He grabbed her by her collar and pulled her to him, his lips capturing hers in a hard kiss.

Rhysenn gasped agains his mouth, but she didn't pull away.

It wasn't how she imagined Peter's kiss to be, soft and subtle and tasting of snow. Fyr's kiss was hard, rough, tasting of bitter herbs and salt. And what scared her the most was that she liked it.

Fyr pulled back first, breathing hard. He grinned cheekily.

"But," he said to Peter, "I never fight fair."

And in a flash, he was gone, up into the trees, melting into the shadows.

"Watch your step," Peter said as he pulled back a sheet of vines. "It's steep." He averted his eyes and swallowed the lump that was building in his throat. Wendy had fallen down this very way, landing with a thump on the floor below.

He absentmindedly held out his hand for Rhiannon, holding it tightly so she wouldn't slip. She slowly made her way downwards, and when Peter was sure she was safe, he let go.

Rhysenn was next, and Peter's attention snapped back to the current moment as she took his hand in hers. It was warm, much like Wendy's was when they had danced. Except Rhysenn's were the strong hands of someone who knew how to take care of herself, while Wendy's were the hands of a girl.

Just a little girl.

Peter held Rhysenn's gaze for a few moments, then he made sure she got down the slope safely as well. He went last, checking behind him to make sure Fyr was gone. He was, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

Decending the steps brought back seas of painful memories for Peter. The smell of damp leaves, stale cider, and sweat invaded his nostrils, and grew stronger and stronger the deeper he went underground.

The place looked exactly as he left it, as the Lost Boys left it. Messy. It was messy, yes, but it was home. Separate hammocks hung in random corners and under shelves. A large oak table sat in the middle of the one large room, with candles melted down so far that the wax was permanantly stuck onto it, old bread, and half drunk glasses of apple cider.

Peter went to his old chair that sat in front of the table, and threw himself into it, his legs hanging over the sides. He grabbed a sword from the pile that lay on the ground next to him and began polishing it, trying in vain to banish the memories that came with the arrival home.

"Peter," Rhiannon piped up, "where are we sleeping? You can't expect us to sleep…" She made a face of disgust as a rat crawled out of one of the hammocks, "here."

Peter put down his sword and got up. Motioning to a curtain half hidden by a large root hanging from the ceiling, he called Rhysenn and Rhi over to him.

"This," he said, pulling the curtain back, "is where you'll be sleeping." It was a large bed, with all manner of colorful blankets strewn across it. "It's my bed, so try not to mess it up too bad." Apparently, he hadn't noticed that he himself messed it up to begin with.

Rhysenn nodded, while Rhi took to examining the bed for any rats that might've been hiding. After finding none, she sat down on the bed, content. Rhysenn did the same, while Peter dissappeared out of the hole in the roof.

"Where do you think he's going this time?" Rhiannon asked, taking off her petticoat, gloves, and boots. She threw the boots in the corner, thinking that they couldn't get any dirtier. She was right. Her most prized possessions were now an ugly dirt-stained brown. She pouted.

"I dunno," Rhysenn replied, laying her head down on one of the pillows. It was soft, extremely so, and smelled just like Peter did.

But thoughts of Fyr, completely unbidden, came rushing into her head with the force of a herd of horses. His taste lingered in her mouth while Peter's scent lingered in the air around her.

It was like hearing two different kinds of music at the same time, confusing, but altogether producing a unique euphoria each time, never repeating, but always having the same effect.

She became disoriented, and closed her eyes to ward off the sudden dizziness.

"Rhysenn," Rhiannon asked, and Rhysenn mumbled in reply. "Do you love me?"

Rhysenn sat up, rubbing her temples and brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, confused.

"Of course I do." She replied, but her sister didn't look like she felt better. "Why?"

"Nothing," Rhi replied, and laid down next to her sister.

She had thought that her problems would just vanish with the world they left behind, disappearing into the clouds and the stars and the planets.

But as usual, they followed her every step, sticking to her like a bothersome shadow. She fell into a restless sleep.

Remember to review! This took me a LONG time to write (like, 4 months), partially because I lost the floppy. Tell me though, do you like how I'm portraying Peter? And do you like Fyr? –Lil Sarah


	3. Chapter Three: Deliver Me

Disclaimer: Peter, Neverland, Hook, and Tinkerbell do not belong to me…yet. All credit for now goes to J.M Barrie, who made this wonderful cocky little boy named Peter Pan who we can all worship and adore. Rhysenn, Rhiannon, and Fyr however, _are_ mine. So no stealing. Okay? Also, the song "Deliver Me" is not mine.   
Chapter Three: Deliver Me 

Rhi awoke the next morning, her eyes on fire. Actually, it was just the sunlight coming in from the top of the tree, but it felt the same. Groaning, she realized that she was, still, in fact, dirty. Very dirty. Extremely, sickeningly dirty. And she hated it.

Peter was still asleep, or so she assumed, for she heard loud snoring coming from across the room. Rhysenn was asleep as well, because both of her legs were strewn across Rhi's stomach, effectively immobilizing her for the time being.

"Ugh," she muttered, shoving her sister's legs off of her. She needed to get to a bathtub, as soon as possible. Peter, however, didn't own one.

So, on June 21st, 1905, Rhiannon Isabella Montesano did something she would never forget: she bathed in a lake.

Peter stared glumly at the scars on his foot where Wendy had sewn his shadow back on. He had awoke early, and spent half an hour "snoring" unconvincingly, or so he thought.

He played with a thread that was still sticking out most delicately, wrapping it around his index finger.

I could sew it on for you, if you'd like… 

Peter remembered how he had shown off, saying that it was all his idea, and his stomach clenched. He remembered the hurt look on Wendy's face when he had said she did nothing.

A sudden wave of regret and nausea claimed him, and he ripped the thread out of his foot. He gasped in pain as the skin broke, but quickly stifled the gasp out of pride.

Pride. It had cost him Wendy. Pride and stubborness had cost him the one thing he had loved more than anything in the world. Even more than he loved being a boy.

But still, he had refused to give it up for her. She had given him everything that he had asked for, but he still refused to try for her. The hate that Peter felt for himself at that moment rivaled any hate he had ever felt before. He disgusted himself.

"Damnit," he whispered harshly, partly from pain and partly from sheer anger. His blood made small trails down his foot, branching out once it got to his heel, and dripping down onto the floor.

From across the room, he heard one of the twins stir. Peeking his head out from behind the chair where he had been sleeping, he saw that it was Rhiannon. She had stripped down to just a shift, her hair a mess of frizzy curls, and was leaving the tree, looking very determined.

Peter felt something inside him snap, and then tug. He moved zombie-like after her, using all his powers of stealth to keep quiet. The next thing he knew, he was hiding in the bushes by the lagoon, watching Rhi undress.

Rhiannon had never been average, in any sense of the word. She had always been exceptionally beautiful, exceptionally talented, exceptionally smart. She had always been "too much". The same went for her body. She had the body of a model, as did her sister.

The lake was warm that day, unnaturally so. The sun had shone all night, a rare occurrence in Neverland ever since Wendy left. Rhi gasped as her long cream colored legs slid into the water. It was just like the bath water she ran at home, warm and soothing.

Not wanting to get her camisole wet, Rhi had undressed competely. Puberty, thank God, had been kind to her. Luckily, she did not have limbs that misbehaved, or unbecoming fits of clumsiness.

In actuality, she was quite graceful and feminine. Her black curls clung to artfully sculped shoulders and small breasts. Her torso and stomach were concave, the shadows dipping into the hollow of her hipbones.

Peter, now, was seeing all of this from the bushes. It was all he could do not to cry. Why he wanted to cry, however, he didn't know. And it scared him, more than anything else ever had. He had never, ever felt this way about Wendy.

But then again, he had never seen her naked, either.

All he knew was that feelings were appearing, feelings that he had no idea what to do with. He felt choked, and wrapped tight, as he watched Rhiannon bathe.

Something awoke in Peter Pan that day that scared him, scared him more than anything else ever had. Not the cold steel of a hook pressed against his throat, not the fear of losing Wendy, not the death of Tinkerbell. Not even his own death.

He was growing up.

As much as he tried to fight it, to close his heart to it like curtains on windows, he couldn't. He just couldn't. The fears he had been running from all the years of his life, he had been hiding from behind the façade of fun, happiness, and flight, all revealed themselves to him.

They threw back the blankets and broke through the walls, and revealed Peter for what he truly was: a scared, insecure, little boy.

Peter Pan never prayed, but at that moment, he dropped to his knees. What he was praying to, he didn't know. Did he deserve salvation? Did he even deserve to be listened to? When he had cheated nature for this long? What god would even acknowledge him?

_Deliver me out of my sadness._

_Deliver me from all of the madness._

_Deliver me courage to guide me._

_Deliver me strength from inside me._

Peter fought back bitter tears as he prayed to anything that would hear his plea. He didn't care who it was, or what it stood for, he just wanted something to listen to him.

"Don't let me grow up," he whispered, his face upturned to the sky above him, the sun shining on it like glory upon saints. "Don't let me have these feelings. Please, whoever you are, let me stay the way I am and have fun. Don't make me grow up."

Although he tried to hold them back, his tears were now falling of their own accord.

Letting a choked sob past his lips, Peter prayed one last time.

"Please…"

"Peter?" It was Rhiannon, dressed now in a blanket, her hair still dripping. "Why are you crying?"

Flash back to Wendy, smiling. Head hurting. Staring down at her, into her curious blue eyes. If only he had known what she was worth then…

But this time wasn't afraid to admit he was scared.

Rhiannon sat down next to Peter, and in an uncommonly sincere gesture, wiped away a tear from his cheek.

_All of my life I've been in hiding._

_Wishing there was someone just like you._

Rhiannon nodded patiently, waiting for Peter to begin.

Why does she look so much like Wendy now? Why does she look so beautiful? Peter thought. So grown up… 

Peter's mouth was suddenly dry, and, like before, his stomach clenched into knots that no happy thought would undo. But were the knots _because _of his happy thoughts?

What happened next, Peter couldn't really discern. All he knew was that Rhi was suddenly very close to him, and his cheek was pressed against her lap. She was warm, and he could feel her tense up as she ran her fingers through his hair. Tiny drops of water splashed down onto his cheeks from her hair.

_Now that you're here, now that I've found you_

_I know that you're the one to pull me through._

"I was…" Peter started, hesitantly. "Scared." The last word was said in a whisper, so quiet that if Rhiannon hadn't been listening, she wou'd've missed it. But she _was _listening, and she did hear it.

Peter closed his eyes and braced himself for the mocking laughter he was sure would come next. The great Pan? Scared? Never! He had long considered himself above feelings, especially fear. Fear wasn't even in his vocabulary.

But the laugher never came. Peter slowly opened one eye, and saw that Rhiannon was about to let tears of her own spill down her cheeks.

Peter abruptly sat up.

"Now look what I've done," he said, digging his fingers into the dirt, "I've gone and made you cry. And you a lady and all."

This was entirely uncharacteristic of Peter, you must understand, for someone as arrogant as him would never even think to put himself down.

But there he was, furious with himself.

He started to stand up, but Rhiannon took his hand and pulled him back down, sending a jolt from the tips of his toes all the way up through his body.

"Peter," she said softly, "don't go."

Peter gave in as he saw the pleading in Rhiannon's eyes. It wasn't fake, like before, that much he knew for sure. This time, she really did want him to stay, out of her own heart. This time, no jealousy existed.

_Deliver me, loving and caring._

_Deliver me, giving and sharing._

_Deliver me, the cross that I'm bearing._

The desperation in Rhiannon's voice melted Peter's resolve, and he decided to stay. Peter sat down.

As he was looking at the plea in Rhiannon's eyes, he also saw something else. Something that made his breath catch in his throat. The only time he had ever looked into a mirror, he had seen the same thing that was now in Rhiannon's eyes. Pain. Fear. Loss. And it looked like had been there for awhile.

So the great Pan wasn't the only one to be rejected? He wasn't the only one that had his heart broken?

This realization startled him, so much so, that he didn't realize how silent he had been about Wendy. He realized he had not told the girls one single thing about her. And she was such a part of his life. Well, she had been…

"Rhi?" He asked. Rhiannon blinked, and shook her head a little. Once her daze was gone, she replied.

"Yes?" Her gaze shifted to her feet, and Peter found it endearing that she was suddenly blushing.

"I want to tell you a story…"

Rhi smiled a bit, wrapped her arms around her knees, and let Peter speak.

"Once upon a time," Peter began, putting his arm around Rhiannon's shoulders, "There was a boy named Peter Pan, who decided not to grow up…" 

Rhysenn had awoken to the sharp tugs of Tinkerbell yanking on her hair, motioning wildly for her. She looked desperate, and if Rhysenn could've understood the fairy language at that moment, she would've heard Tinkerbell describe in detail all she had seen happen between Peter and Rhiannon in the bushes.

"Wha-?" Rhysenn mumbled, swatting Tink with a swift backhand. Not discouraged, however, Tinkerbell continued to pull and drag Rhysenn up and out of bed.

Rhysenn yawned groggily.

Frusterated, Tinkerbell waved her hands in front of Rhysenn's face, saying "Watch me!"

Tinkerbell put her hands on her hips and grinned proudly, sticking her chest out. She messed up her hair for further effect.

"Peter?" Rhysenn guessed. Tinkerbell nodded feverishly, and continued her pantomime.

She curstied and batted her eyelashes, but Rhysenn just stared, confused. Not fazed, Tinkerbell proceeded to fawn over an invisible person, pouting and winking. Then she pointed to her and made curling motions.

"Oh!" Rhysenn gasped, "Rhi!" Tink nodded once again, and made kissing faces. She pantomimed Rhysenn once, then Peter, then made the kissing face.

Rhysenn's eyes narrowed with jealousy as she understood. That was why Rhi had asked me the previous night if I loved her! She was going to steal Peter, and wanted to make sure I wouldn't hate her. I…am going…to…kill…her. 

Rhysenn balled her hands into fists, while Tinkerbell squealed with delight. No one was going to take _her _Peter, especially not a silly little girl.

"Come on, Tink." Rhysenn said, and started up the stairs, "show me where they are."

Tink nodded once in obedience, and proceeded to fly out of the tree. Rhysenn followed her gladly, hell bent on revenge.

"And where do you think you're going?" A voice called out.

Rhysenn had been walking for about five minutes when she was so abruptly interrupted.

Rhysenn froze, recognition hitting her hard. Fyr stepped in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place.

"Move!" She yelled, and tried to push him backwards. He caught his balance, however, and only held her tighter.

"Tsk tsk," he said, a proud grin gracing his features. "That's no way a lady should act."

Fyr bowed down, plainly mocking Peter. "My lady," he said. For a moment, Rhysenn thought she saw a hint of sincerity in his eyes, a hint of kindness.

But she couldn't afford to have any sympathy, not now, not for him.

"Out of my way, Fyr." Rhysenn said through gritted teeth, "I have somewhere to be." She pushed past the boy and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Fyr called, desperation plain in his voice, "Stay, just for a moment."

There was something raw in his voice, something akin to fear, to basic loneliness, and it threw Rhysenn off-guard for a moment.

She stopped, hesitant to turn around. Should she risk it, after what he did to her before?

"Why?" Rhysenn asked, a perfectly reasonable question in her mind. Something was knotted in her stomach, and an uneasy shiver was slowly crawling up her skin.

She turned around, wating for Fyr to reply. He was chewing his lower lip, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. He seemed absorbed in the intricate patterns of the forest floor.

"I wanted to…" he started, slowly, deliberately. "er…say that…well, I wanted to tell you…"

"Yes?" Rhysenn encouraged, nodding. Fyr seemed to take heart, and he stood up straight, pulling his hands out of pockets.

"I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior." He said, extending a hand slowly.

"Another trick, Fyr?" she asked quietly, and the boy shook his head, smiling a little.

"Not this time," Fyr replied, his grin widening.

Rhysenn hesitantly placed her hand into Fyr's, and Fyr slowly raised it to his lips, kissing her hand softly.

"Forgive me?" Fyr asked, straightening up. His eyes pleaded with her. Although he tried to mask it, it was obvious to anyone who would look that Fyr was deeply fearful. He wasn't sure why, however.

Rhysenn smiled, her hand still nestled safely in his. She decided to keep it there. What better way to get back at Peter than falling in love with his rival? Rhysenn thought, revenge still fresh in her mind.

"I forgive you."

"Oh, before I forget," Fyr said, reaching to his waist, "give this back to Peter." He handed her Peter's dagger that he had stolen the previous day. Rhysenn noticed that he had cleaned it. "Tell him I'm sorry, would you?"

"Don't be," Rhysenn replied, gripping the dagger hard. "Peter's an arrogant son of a bitch anyways."

Fyr's eyes grew huge at Rhysenn's use of such vulgar language. From what he knew, ladies didn't use those words.

"What?" Rhysenn asked, hands on her hips. Fyr shook his head and smiled.

"Nothing. Let's go."

Author's Note: Remember to review! Sorry that was such a dull ending. I pomise there will be some serious snogging in the next chapter, but I won't tell you who will be doing it. This chapter was particularly hard for me, as I could've gone in a lot of different directions. Hugs and thimblesLil Sarah


End file.
